Soul Mates

Chapter One*

Chapter One

•Reagan•

"Mom, I'm off to work. I'll be home around seven," I notify, twirling my brunette hair into a messed-up bun. Gazing into the reflective surface, sighs escape my lips at my boring, generic appearance. Brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, simple black framed glasses. See? Boring. The only non-generic lineament of mine would be my height of five feet and three inches.

Adjusting my black tee shirt and green skinnies - my uniform -, I then grab my keys and phone.

"Bye, sweetheart. I appreciate it, so much," she murmurs, quietly, cradling my siblings. They are almost three now. I gaze up to my brunette, blue eyed mother. "By the way, can you watch Will and Lottie tonight? James wants to go on a date."

I smile at the mention of my mom's husband of four years. James is six-five, muscular,
with blonde hair and brown eyes. My father had passed when I was three, and it took my mom years to get over it. Thirteen years into my life, we met James. They soon started dating, and three years later, they got married. My father wasn't her soul mate, James is, but my parents had fallen in love. They never married, though I had my father's last name, Troy, until James came. I took his name, though he told me he'd never replace my dad; he's always been a great father figure for me. I once had a dream with my father telling me to take my stepdad's name.

James is now called either Dad, Jim, or James. I can still clearly remember, he cried the first time I ever called him dad, he was so happy.

"Of course," I kiss my moms cheek, standing on tiptoes; she's five inches taller than myself. "Love you."

"Love you, too! Stay warm!"

I tug on my light blue jean jacket, nuzzle into its fuzzy lining, and head out. I pull out my bike, and ride to Starbucks. Personally, coffee isn't my thing, but it's such a nice atmosphere here and it always smells good. But what I really want to do is be a personal stylist for a famous person.

After five minutes of cycling to St. Armand's Circle, I get off as the bike continues moving, and stop at Starbucks. I chain my bike up out back, then smile, seeing my best friend behind the counter.

I clock in, grab my apron, and go behind the counter. "Morning, Christian," I tell my best friend, Crystal. She is very beautiful; five-six, big blue eyes, sandy blonde hair, and tan skin, the name Joshua D. on her wrist. She's really down to earth, despite her gorgeous appearance.

"Mornin' Raymond," she responds, her strong Tennessee accent leaking through. She even has an adorable accent. Personally, I have have an Alabaman accent from all my holidays and vacations with my Gran and Gramp, out there. "I'm pretty sure today's gonna be slow," she observes.

"Yeah, a lot of people have left for vacation already," I nod. We continue to chat, until a few customers come in. Manning the cash register, I greet customers while Crys makes drinks.

The day goes on like that: intervals of a few people and no people. By the end of the day, when the part-timers come in to finish the day, I'm still energized. "My house?" I suggest to my best friend.

"Sure! I got nothin' to do, anyhow."

"I have to keep an eye on the babes."

She grins. "Meet ya there in an hour." I smile, and nod, exiting out the back door. Getting on my bike, I ride back home, still smiling slightly.

When I arrive, my mother looks into the mirror, putting in earrings. She's dressed in a just-above-the-knee white dress, that flares at the bottom. Her blue eyes gaze at me.

"Ray, can you do my hair?"

"Course, Mom," she sits on a chair in the kitchen, with hair things. I curl her hair, pulling it half up-half down. "Done!"

"Reagan!" I hear James call.

"Gotta go," I tell my mom. "James!" I yell back extending the 'a'. I run up the stairs, into James and Mom's room. James stands there, looking at his bed. On the bed, there's black pants, a white dress shirt, and a black sport coat, then tan chinos, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. "Black. Definetely." He smiles, nodding.

"Thanks, babygirl, love you," he says with his charming Mississippian accent, pulling me into a hug and kissing my hair.

"Love you, too, Dad." We pull apart, and he grins widely at me. "She's down stairs." I go into the twins room, smiling when I see them awake.

"What're you guys doing up? It's nap time!"

They giggle, sitting up, and reaching out to me. I smile, picking up Will then Lottie. They play with my hair, as I look down at them. William has brown hair and brown eyes, with tan skin. Charlotte, on the other hand has blonde hair, blue eyes, and tan skin. They are really beautiful kids.

Hearing my mom yell "We're leaving!", I yell back a 'bye'. I rock my half-siblings back and forth, and soon, their eyes close. I smile as their breathing slows. I lie them each in their beds, shut off the lights, and creep downstairs.

A loud bang comes from the kitchen, and my eyes widen. I look around, seeing one of James' golf clubs against the wall. My slightly shaky hands grip it, wielding it like a bat. Slowly, and silently, I move towards the entrance. Sighs escape my lips, relieved, seeing Crystal in my fridge.

"Jesus Christ, Chris."

She jumps, turning. I giggle, seeing the cookie hanging out of her mouth. "Herf," she says.

"I'm gonna assume that's a hey." I chuckle, then continue to talk. "Why am I not surprised I found your face in the fridge?"

She finishes chewing, "Your food tastes better."

My dark eyes habitually roll at her 'observation'. "Whatever. The twins are sleeping, so we can't be too loud." She nods, grabbing a bag of chips and two bottles of water.

Rolling my eyes once more, I follow my friend up to my room. My room may be the smallest, but it's cozy and always warm.

We talk softly about random things, eating chips and drinking water, before we got on the topic of our soul mates. By now, my head is resting lazily on her lap.

I run my fingers over her tattoo. Joshua D. We have yet to meet a Joshua D. I ask her "What do you think he's like?"

"I don't know. Brunette? Green eyes? Musician?"

"I wonder what Louis' like," I sigh out quietly.

"He's probably a brunette with blue eyes and tan skin. Hopefully an amazing singer to make up for your terrible singing."

"Do you ever worry if you'll find him?" I wonder out loud, ignoring her snide remark.

"Not really. I'll find him eventually, even if I have to wait, like your Ma."

"Do-Do you think I'll find him?"

"Of course, sweetheart, of course."

I sigh again, and roll my face into her stomach. "Are you gon' stay the night?"

"'Course." She pets my hair, and says "Go ahead and sleep. I can take care of the babes."

I drift off, my hand tracing and tracing my tattoo. L-o-u-i-s A. I fall asleep with a true, genuine smile.